


like they do on discovery channel

by sky_reid



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingerfucking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering, kind of, seriously it's just filthy shameless porn and nothing else, technically they are both underage what with it being hs au, what is this tink is posting explicit het what is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 23:30:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3547769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_reid/pseuds/sky_reid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>merlin just can't resist misbehaving in mr. pendragon's class.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like they do on discovery channel

**Author's Note:**

> for [this prompt](http://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/17048.html?thread=15826840#t15826840) on the kink meme (asking for merlin/freya, hs au, fingering in the back of the class while an educational film plays)
> 
> i've never in my life written merlin/freya and i've never in my life written explicit m/f sex so naturally this is a prompt that captured my attention there's nothing strange about that at all
> 
> abt the public sex tag - they're in class so in public, but no one actually pays attention or even notices though merlin does get off on the idea of someone knowing what they're doing so

 

_like they do on discovery channel_

 

Merlin’s never been more grateful for the short skirts of the school uniform than when his fingers ghost over the wet cotton of Freya’s underwear. It’s light grey today, with a trim of pale pink lace and a small silk bow on the front; Merlin saw it that morning when she put it on while he was sneaking out of her dorm room. Her thigh presses harder against his as she spreads her legs a bit wider. He trails his fingers out towards her legs, runs them over the scratchy lace where it cuts into her skin a little. She doesn’t move or make a sound, but the breath she huffs through her nose is just the wrong side of too harsh. Merlin chances a glance at her face; her eyes are glued to the canvas, her arms are rested neatly on the desk and to anyone else she probably looks suitably engrossed in the movie. Merlin knows her though - her eyes are unfocused and her cheeks are just a shade too dark. He grins and hides it in her shoulder for just a second before he turns back to the front of the classroom.

 

Mr. Pendragon looks as stern and serious as ever; he reminds Merlin of a vulture a bit, hunched over his desk so he can rest his head on his hands, his eyes skimming the classroom as if everyone in it is a herd of dying zebras and he’s just waiting to pounce on the first one to drop (Mr. Pendragon has a thing for playing documentaries in class and Merlin’s quite positive he’s seen way too many by now). If any other teacher had tried old NatGeo recordings as a legitimate teaching method, Merlin is certain more than half the class would be asleep or talking within five minutes flat. Mr. Pendragon is an exception to every rule when it comes to student discipline though. His strict, foreboding presence is more than enough to keep everyone in check no matter how boring his lectures get. Which is why misbehaving is especially fun when it’s done in his class. The tips of Merlin’s fingers dip under the lace trim of Freya’s panties.

 

In front of Mr. Pendragon his son, Arthur, sits with his eyes clearly glued to the screen with unnatural focus. Even in the dim light Merlin can tell his ears are burning red. He sniggers soundlessly; the arrogant prick could use getting knocked down a few pegs even if watching a sex education video right in front of his father is a rather cruel punishment.

 

On the screen the voice-over of a bored-sounding woman is talking about _responsible sexual behavior_ during puberty; the irony doesn’t escape Merlin when he hooks his fingers in Freya’s panties and tugs on them. From the corner of his eye he catches the lopsided smile Freya gives him before she lifts her hips off the chair just enough for him to pull her underwear halfway down her thighs. As soon as her ass hits the seat again her legs spread and Merlin _swears_ he hears something rip. He grins at his desk.

 

This time when he slides his hand up her smooth inner thighs, it’s not damp cotton his fingers reach, it’s trimmed wiry curls and warm skin, sticky and slick. When people look at her, they see this shy, soft-spoken, tight-laced girl, but Merlin knows better, knows the kinkiness that hides beneath and that always gets her so wet when they do it like this, when they make it a little risky, a little reckless, when they make out in the school hallways where everyone can see, when they fuck in Merlin’s bed while Will is sleeping half a breath away, when he makes her come so hard she’s on the verge of screaming even though her parents are just down the hall. He runs his fingers gently over her lips, gathers the wet there and brings it up to his lips. He looks around, but no one is paying attention to them, secreted away as they are in the dark corner furthest away from the screen and Mr. Pendragon’s desk and cuddled close together, so he sucks his fingers into his mouth and licks them clean, tasting her and letting spit dribble down his hand before he slips it back under her skirt. The screen in front of them is showing a middle-aged man with terrible fashion sense talking about how teenage girls are becoming more and more irresponsible when it comes to sex, how they should focus on their studies and keep their virginity for the right man; Freya makes a disapproving face. Merlin shares the sentiment, but since Mr. Pendragon is not one to encourage gender equality discussions, his only idea is to distract Freya, preferably with a good orgasm to serve as a spiteful _fuck you_ to everything this ‘educational’ movie stands for. He’s clearly not doing his job particularly well if she can spare enough braincells to find the movie distasteful.

 

He runs his wet fingers over her lips, spreads them with two fingers and circles her opening with the third. She gasps softly, leans a little closer to him, her breath tickling his ear. He suppresses a shiver at the sensation and shoves two fingers inside her quickly, roughly, almost as if to punish her. He’s half-hard already, and it’s only getting worse; unlike her, he can’t just stand up and walk off if he gets off now, he’ll end up with an embarrassing wet spot and tacky underwear sticking to him unpleasantly for the rest of the day or, worse yet, the class will be over before he even gets there and he’ll have to walk out awkwardly trying to hide an erection everyone will be able to spot from space. So she doesn’t get to lean in or kiss the side of his neck or slide her hand up his leg, because it’s not _fair_ (except for how they both know the thing that gets Merlin off most is getting other people off, making them shudder and moan and fall apart under his hands and mouth). He fucks his fingers in and out of her harshly a few times just to watch her squirm. She’s picking at an etching in the desk with restless fingers while the blunt nails of her free hand dig into her forearm; Merlin can see the arousal etched into every line of her face as clearly as he can feel it sticking to his fingers. To anyone else she would only look distracted, maybe mildly frustrated. The thought of someone looking at them, even if they wouldn’t realize what’s happening, sends a thrill of excitement and arousal through him.

 

He curls his fingers the way he knows will drive her insane because it’s not enough, not really touching her spot, just a light teasing brush over it, and sure enough, she makes a quiet frustrated noise and tips her hips to move into his touch. She has to lean back against her chair and slump in it a little to give him better access and if Mr. Pendragon looked at her right now, he would surely chastise her for the way she’s sitting; he doesn’t, but just the thought has Merlin squirming in his seat. He fucks his fingers deep inside her and keeps them there, just scissoring them and curling them at random, watching her squirm while trying not to draw attention to what they’re doing. He’s sweating through his shirt and jacket and she doesn’t look much better with the hair around her face curling a little with sweat and a flush high on her cheeks. Her brows furrow together slightly and he sees her eyes dart around the room for a second before she starts subtly riding his fingers, shallow thrusts of her hips and little figure-eights that could still, in theory, be taken for innocent nerves or boredom, but Merlin knows that a careful look now from someone who knows them, Gwaine or Gwen, even Arthur, would be all it takes to figure them out. His own hips fuck up into the air and before he’s even aware of it, his free hand has snuck under the desk too and he presses it down on his throbbing cock to ease the pressure, barely suppressing a moan at the touch.

 

Freya’s hand trails down his forearm so lightly he can barely feel it through the long sleeves of the standard-issue black jacket and it’s like the gentlest kind of plea when her long fingers wrap around his wrist where it disappears under the bunched up fabric of her plaid skirt and squeeze. Her other hand is still on the desk, gripping the edge of it now, tightly enough for her knuckles to turn white, and she looks close to _begging_ for more so Merlin gives it to her. He fucks her hard and fast and lets her grind down against the heel of his hand even though he knows it’s too dry; he watches her eyes fall shut and her frown deepen and her lips part around harsh, shallow breaths and barely stifled moans. if somebody looked at them _now_ , there would be no mistaking what is happening and the idea of getting her off so obviously while their strictest, most traditional, most judgmental teacher sits none the wiser on the other side of the room has him rubbing his hand up and down his cock, wrapping his fingers around it through the uniform and squeezing rhythmically. He could come like this, fingerfucking his girlfriend as hard as he dares in the back of a classroom while some priest drones about the carelessly risky behavior on university campuses in an insanely patriarchal and old-fashioned educational video; he could come with all of his classmates sitting just a whisper away and they still wouldn’t know.

 

He looks sideways at Freya, sees her bite her lip just in time to hide a moan; she releases his wrist and presses her hand over her mouth. Her leg hooks over Merlin’s and this time he _knows_ he hears her panties rip; it’s a stroke of pure luck that right then a car is driving down the street in the stupid movie that is still playing and nobody else hears. Her calf presses against his crotch and it’s so easy to move his hand, run it over her skin instead of his own crotch and rut against her, so much more satisfying than touching himself. He rubs against her at the same brutal pace at which he fucks her until his chair moves, scraping loudly against the floor, and he has to scramble to make himself look remotely presentably when a few heads turn in their direction.

 

A strict-looking man in a lab coat is talking about teenage pregnancies and abortion statistics when Freya clenches around his fingers and gives him a desperate look. He wishes he could crawl between her legs, bite at her pale thighs until they’re marked up all red and blue from his stubble and teeth, wants to nuzzle against her to smell her arousal, to see her wetness glistening on his fingers as they pump in and out of her; he wishes he could go down on her right now, fuck her with his tongue as well as his fingers while she tugs on his hair and have the taste of her explode in his mouth, wants to bury his face in her cunt until his cheeks and chin are a wet, sticky mess, wants to suck on her clit, make her moan and spasm around his fingers, feel the muscles in her legs tremble around his face and against his back. He’d do it right here, crawl under the desk and lick her out for all he’s worth if only it were any other teacher, someone who wouldn’t notice his sudden absence, someone who wouldn’t care.

 

As is, he slips his fingers out, runs them up to her clit and spreads her wetness there before shoving them back inside her roughly, three now; she’s so wet and open that they go in easily with an obscene squelching sound he’s sure everyone in the classroom can not only hear, but identify too. Freya doesn’t seem to care, sliding down in her chair and moaning softly, entirely giving up on keeping up appearances. Merlin circles his thumb around her clit a few times gently, the way she likes, a contrast to how hard he fucks her. He presses down just left of it and curls his fingers so they press into her spot on every harsh push inside; it’s an awkward angle and his wrist hurts, but he doesn’t have to keep at it for long because she’s coming seconds later, clenching around his fingers like she wants to break them and arching off the chair like she’s possessed. She manages to stay mostly quiet; the few grunts and moans that escape go straight to Merlin’s dick. He fucks her through it, fast at first then slowing down. Even after she stops spasming around his fingers and he takes them out, he keeps his hand under her skirt; his fingers are dripping wet with her so he walks them up to her clit, circles it with a touch so light it’s barely there before really going for it, rubbing her until she lets out this quiet, broken sound and slumps forward against the desk, shaking and scratching at his arm. He takes his hand away; he wants to lift it to his face, smear Freya’s wetness over it and wear it with pride. He wonders if he can get away with wrapping his hand, still sticky from Freya’s cunt, around his straining cock and jerking off or if he can at least lick his fingers clean, but in the end he just slips Freya’s ruined underwear off the leg she still has in his lap and wipes his hand on it, then stuffs it in the pocket of his jacket.

 

The stupid movie is still showing an endless procession of boring, middle-aged men waxing on about the importance of abstinence when Freya closes her legs and turns to him; she looks a bit dazed with her eyes all glassy and wet and her cheeks burning red and she gives him a shy smile. Merlin grins back at her. He reaches out with his cleaner hand and tucks a damp strand of hair behind her ear. Mr. Pendragon is writing something down in the leather-bound diary he always carries around and he doesn’t appear to be paying attention so Merlin leans in and presses a closed-mouthed kiss in the corner of Freya’s lips.

 

By the time the credits start to roll, they both look mostly presentable and Merlin’s only half-hard. He props his head on his arms; his hand still smells of Freya. When the lights come back on, he keeps his eyes on his desk because he can’t stop grinning.

 


End file.
